Still Raining
by Saphira112
Summary: There isn't any love in this act. It's only a means to get the frustration out, the raw, undulating frustration that seems to be the bane of their existence." Lavi/Kanda


Still Raining

One-Shot

It's raining. It's raining ridiculously hard, merciless, cold stones dropping from the sky pelting down upon the two secluded in the alley way. It's raining, but they don't give a fuck and wouldn't give a fuck if it was snowing and they were stark naked. Which probably isn't the best comparison, considering that they were now both half-naked anyway and the taller one was biting down on the shoulder of his companion, pressing him against the cold fortification and pinning him by his wrists.

Now, this wasn't an act of love. Oh, no. If either of them labeled such actions under 'love' and 'compassion', they'd both never hear the end of it. It's nothing to do with love. It's frustration, pent-up frustration, raw and wanting to get out and what better way to do so than to push your partner up against a wall and fuck him senseless? That was a definite way of allowing the anger to just get pushed out of the body and into the open air where it would dissipate and they would just go back to how things normally were.

That was the plan, anyway. Sometimes things didn't go completely back to normal and it took another round or two before they did, before all the rage had evacuated both bodies. Again, this isn't just some normal spurt of anger they experience with normal daily frustrations, i.e. someone being an annoying fuck or just food that wasn't all the way cooked.

This raw, unimaginable anger comes from each of their insecurity and just the recognition of that insecurity causes the rage to bubble up; it really doesn't help when they both just got their arses handed to them by a few Level Two Akuma. Now that really _burns_. They eventually did defeat them, like always, but the realization of their weakness in battle finally blew the cork off that bottle. Now they were having their own battle, clawing at each other, bruising grips, sharp teeth, grunts and groans and really, they're not supposed to enjoy it and perhaps there is a thrill that helps rid them of their frustration, the thrill of fighting back, continually harming one another to show their power that they felt they have lost. Perhaps that is why it _is_, really, somewhat enjoyable.

The alleyway isn't their best pick, while we're on that train of thought. In fact, the alleyway is probably one of the most uncomfortable places to screw each other senseless in, being the fact they have to stand up because the ground isn't the cleanest place in the world and yeah, most people tend not to look in alleyways anyway, but still. They're rather do it on a tile floor back at the Order or over a desk or even in-between bookshelves in the library. Those picks are better than a God-forsaken _alleyway_. But they're not complaining. It's a place no one really looks in, they're alone in the shadows, and fuck the rain because that rain isn't going to stop them. In fact, that rain seems to stimulate more than normal.

Sensitive skin catches the falling rain and they both shiver, a little bit to do with the cold and a little more to do with the fact that they're both terribly aroused up to this point and the clothing is more hindrance than it is help. Hands are tugging at offending belts, yanking them off none-too-gently and one button is lost in the scuffle, falling in the shadows to never be seen again. It was only one button and there was still the zipper, so neither cared.

They're grinding now, the taller of the two pushing his partner up against the wall again, pressing his groin firmly to the other exorcist and teeth nip at each other's lips, demanding entrance and tongues slip inside, muffling any moans from the activity of their lower bodies. There is insistence, urgency, and the one pinned to the wall says "get on with it" in a husky voice, half-panting. There is need and there is a want because they're both still full of the unmistakable desire to be _rid _ofwhat they feel.

Finger curl and hold tightly to hair as the taller crouches down in front of his partner. There's normally no emotion felt; after all, it's only oral. And of course it's real fucking good because the heat is a roller coaster when one is on the receiving end, but normally there's no emotion, just the want to release and fall back against the wall again, ravish and be ravished. It's not long before he comes in the other's mouth, moaning as his fingers curl into the red mop of hair that's soaking wet and you know, it's soaking because of that fucking rain and that's real annoying because when it's not raining, the hair is actually nice and soft and feeling tough strands right now is just _irritating_.

There is a grunt and a hand from the redhead goes back, searching (metaphorically, of course) for the gate where he'll just shove all his frustration in and leave it to die a slow, painful death. He finds it and pushes his finger inside. Gates don't open just like that. One has to work at it and obviously it's going to be a few minutes because it always takes a few minutes... but a few minutes is what neither of them have. So after two fingers, they both decide to just fuck it all and get on with it because waiting is just adding to their anger.

The long-haired exorcist is turned, pinned with his chest to the cold stone, and his partner immediately thrusts into him. There is pain and that strange burning sensation, but neither of them are unused to pain and really, they're not going to wait anymore. Foreplay in this situation just _cannot_ apply.

The rhythm starts out ridiculously slow, once in, a slight pause, then back out and repeat. They both hate that pace. That pace can get shot, along with their anger, which seemed to be building cause quite frankly, the pace downright sucked and they both knew it was relative, but at the moment, they just said fuck all again and gave in.

Hands curl over the ones placed flat against the wall and the speed immediately picks up. Thrusts become more frantic as anger builds. The rain is falling around them, on them, soaking their already wet bodies. They're both panting. The redhead places his chin on the samurai's shoulder, breathing against his ear with his eye shut tightly, speaking obscene words into the other's ear even as he thrusts inside him again. The other exorcist is moaning, gritting his teeth occasionally to muffle it because his pride was already damaged enough and he even made a snide comment on the other's words he kept hearing.

It seems to be forever, but soon the bridge comes and they must jump off of it into the river. A single thrust and they're done. The redhead releases into his partner with a long moan, riding out his orgasm with a face screwed up in pleasure. His partner has a similar expression, eyes shut tightly, hands shaking between the wall and the hands placed over them as he feels the liquid entering his body, filling him.

And suddenly, the anger is gone.

Each take a deep breath to calm themselves, feeling the pleasure die down and feeling oddly relaxed for the first time in a while. They wordlessly help one another find their respective jackets (their shirts were torn to pieces already) and help the other place them back on their shoulders where they belong. Pants pulled up, zipped; that button is still missing but the coat at least covers that up and they were glad they had belts to help, too. The redhead helps his partner tie his slightly messy hair into a low ponytail so it would survive until the journey back to the inn they were staying at.

Once dressed, they glance once out of the alleyway and walk out. Since it's raining and no one wants to be out in the rain, they're the only ones out on the street, which is partly a relief because it'd be weird if a random passerby noticed them coming out of the alleyway in their slightly disheveled appearances. But as they head back to their inn, the redhead puts his hands on the back of his head, looking once up to the sky and makes no comment. The samurai beside him says nothing for a while but then comments on how it's _still_ fucking raining. The redhead chuckles and says he gets annoyed too easily, to which his partner asks if he wants to be beheaded and there is a _chak_ in the air, signaling the exorcist had placed his hand on his sword, thus emphasizing his death threat and the redhead just tells him to lighten up.

Lighten up because it's still fucking raining.


End file.
